


talk like an open book

by poplocknsonnet



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Author barely speaks English, Author does not speak Kryptoniuo, F/F, conlang AU, in fact
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-12 20:38:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15348252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poplocknsonnet/pseuds/poplocknsonnet
Summary: When Lena overhears Kara speaking to her cousin in a foreign language, Kara explains that she created a conlang in college. Lena, eager for a chance to get closer to the other woman, asks if Kara would teach her, which Kara agrees to do. However, there are some gaps in the language that teaching Lena has made Kara aware of.Inspired by stories in which Kara claims that she's speaking Kazakh when confronted about Kryptahniuo.





	talk like an open book

**Author's Note:**

> Text in **bold** are transliterations of Kryptoniuo.  
>  Text in _italics_ are translations of Kryptoniuo.
> 
> I didn't want to try to make up Kryptoniuo, so the one made up word is taken from Korean. The rest of the Kryptoniuo is as nearly as I could translate from kryptonian dot info.
> 
> I also chose the romanization of "Kryptoniuo" over "Kryptahniuo" because it's more recognizable that way.
> 
> The title is another Metric lyric, because I maintain that Lena listens to Metric.

It all begins with an overheard conversation. It’s not that Lena Luthor is typically in the habit of eavesdropping, it’s just that she naturally pays more attention to Kara. It’s hard not to; the blonde woman has been the subject of Lena’s thoughts for the last few weeks and so it’s only natural that when she’s actually present, she is in full command of Lena’s attention.

Their lunch date in Lena’s office, which has become something of a habit over the past month or so, is interrupted by the gentle ringing of Kara’s phone. She looks at the caller ID before apologizing. “Sorry, Lena, I’ve got to take this.”

“Of course,” Lena says as Kara takes to the balcony, where she speaks, quickly and familiarly, in a language that Lena doesn’t recognize. It’s a fluid language, beautiful, and she’s still trying to place it when Kara eventually hangs up and returns to their meal.

“What language was that? I don’t think I’ve heard it before.”

“It’s ah- well,” Kara says, flushing prettily, “It’s a little nerdy, really.”

“Oh?”

“It’s a conlang,” she admits.

“Come again?”

“A constructed language. I made it up with Clark, my cousin, when I was in college. Alex knows a little bit, and Clark taught his wife, but I don’t get to speak it much.”

“You could teach me,” Lena offers quickly, “I mean, I’d love to learn.”

“You would?”

“Of course,” Lena says, “If you’re willing to teach me.”

What Lena doesn’t say is that she’d do pretty much anything as long as Kara was willing to do it with her, such is the crush that she has on the other woman. What she doesn’t say is that spending time alone with Kara, learning a secret language that only she (and, okay, a handful of family members) can speak sounds like a dream come true. What she doesn’t say is, “Of course. I love you.”

What Kara says is: “Does Friday night work for you?”

Friday night arrives and somehow, Kara looks as nervous as Lena feels.

“We don’t have to do this,” Lena says, although she knows that she’ll be sad to see Kara leave.

“No, I- it would make me very happy to be able to speak with you in Captaniuo,” Kara says, pronouncing the name of her language as “Cap-ton-joo-oh.”

Lena is no stranger to learning languages. She speaks sixteen fluently, and could get by in at least a dozen others, depending on the situation. She loves the way that language can influence thought, the way you can pick up on bits and pieces of culture from the languages that they employ, as well as the reverse - how languages are shaped by the cultures that speak them.

Learning Captaniuo is helping her understand Kara in a way that nothing else has. Or, rather, it’s helping her understand how little of Kara she really knew. There’s something strange about Captaniuo, something intangible, something alien, and Lena catches herself on multiple occasions wondering just how Kara could have come up with a language so unique.

It’s not the sounds that are unfamiliar - words feel like a blend between Greek, Arabic, and Estonian, and Lena is at least familiar with each of the three. It’s not the syntax either – Irish and Gaelic both use a verb-subject-object sentence. It’s hard to put her finger on, but there’s a way of thinking that Captaniuo invites, a way of looking at the world, and it’s that perspective that is unfamiliar.

For instance, there are some words that don’t exist in Captaniuo.

“How would I say, ‘My mother is feeling ill?’” Lena asks one day.

Kara chews her lip for a second before answering. “I’m not sure. We never- that is, Clark and I didn’t get sick much, so we never bothered to come up with a word for it. Maybe ‘ _my mother has a weakened body_ ’?”

But there are also words that carry strange implications.

“To say something is beautiful, we would say ‘ **n’dhoia** ,’” Kara explains, “But it’s- it’s more that something was well made, well put together, that it’s successful at fulfilling its intended function.”

“There’s no word for aesthetic beauty?”

Kara’s brow furrows. “Not for objects,” she admits, “For people, you would call them ‘ **n’zrhueiao** ,’ but objects are just ‘ **n’dhoia**.’”

The lessons, which began in addition to and distinct from their normal lunch dates and movie nights, begin to blur and blend, until Lena is spending nearly seven days a week speaking Captaniuo for at least a few minutes, but usually much more. She’s never spent so much time with Kara before, and the proximity is the sweetest torture that she can imagine. Speaking to Kara in a language that, in effect, only they can speak, is an intimacy that she can barely fathom.

Their first real separation since the beginning of the lessons comes when Lena has to attend a conference in Metropolis. It’s been several months since their first lesson.

“Make sure you stay in practice while you’re gone,” Kara teases.

“It’s only a two day conference,” Lena says, “And besides, you’re the only other Captaniuo speaker I know. Are you angling for a phone call?”

The first day of the conference is exhausting, but once she’s alone in her hotel room, Lena finds herself dialing a familiar number instead of sleeping.

“Hello?” Kara asks, “Lena? Gosh, what time is it there? _How was your day_?” Their conversation, as has become their normal, weaves between English and Captaniuo.

“ _It’s only a three hour difference_ ,” Lena says, but she’s more tired than she wants to admit, “The conference was interesting. There was a great presentation on the progress of the fusion project.”

“Sounds just your speed,” Kara says, and Lena can hear the affectionate smile on the other girl’s lips, “ _Shouldn’t you sleep, though_? You’ve all that science to get to tomorrow.”

“I miss you,” Lena admits, and suddenly the connection between them gains a quiet intimacy, no matter that Lena is in the somewhat sterile hotel room that she’s been booked into, no matter that they’re hundreds of miles apart.

“I miss you too,” Kara says, and then a phrase in Captaniuo that Lena’s never heard before, “ **Sarang-odh khap rrip** _._ ”

Before she can ask what it means, Kara’s hung up, leaving her only with the dial tone and the tumult of her own thoughts.

She eventually manages to fall asleep, and rises far too soon for the second day of the conference. She makes it through only with the power of several cups of coffee, and retains not a word of the several presentations that she attends, so distracted is she by Kara’s unfamiliar parting words.

It’s about halfway through the post-conference cocktail reception that Lena comes to a sudden realization. Clark Kent is Kara’s cousin and he’s married to Lois Lane, who’s in attendance as part of the press corp – there’s someone that she can ask, someone she can talk to.

“Lois!” she says brightly, trying her best to act as if her heart hasn’t suddenly begun to beat a jitterbug against her chest, “Hi!”

“Lena,” Lois says in surprise – the two women have never been anything more than casual acquaintances, so she’s not sure what to do with Lena’s sudden familiarity.

“ _I wanted to ask you a question_ ,” Lena says, hoping she’s remembered everything correctly.

“ _Where did you learn to speak this language?_ ” Lois asks curiously.

“ _Kara taught it to me_ ,” Lena responds.

“ _Of course she did. What can I do for you?_ ”

Lena takes a deep breath before asking the question that’s left her unable to think about anything else for the weekend. “ _What does_ **sarang-odh khap rrip** _mean?_ ”

Lois hums. “ _I’ve never heard that first word before,_ ” she says, before switching to English. “You’re sure that’s what she said?”

“I haven’t been able to think of anything else since,” Lena admits.

“I wouldn’t worry. If she said it to you, it’s something she wants you to know. Just ask, the next time you get the chance.”

Lena smiles. “ _Thank you for the advice._ ”

“ _Any time, sister_.” And then, in English: “Welcome to the club, Lena,” Lois says, and there’s a fond smile on her face.

Lena sleeps easier that night, despite having received no answer to the question that had plagued her the night before. She wakes up late, justifying it to herself with the time difference – it’s quite early for National City. It’s nearly two when she makes it to the airport.

Her phone rings as she’s lining up to board – it’s Kara, who begins to speak as soon as Lena’s picked up.

“Lena? Why did my cousin just call to congratulate me on my new girlfriend? And why does he think that girlfriend is you?”

“It’s a funny story,” Lena says, ignoring the way her heart leaps at being referred to as Kara’s girlfriend, even just in this context, “I’ll be back in National City tonight – I’m actually about to get on the plane. Do you want to come over and I can fill you in?”

It warms Lena’s heart how quickly, how easily, Kara says yes, as if she had kept her schedule open in anticipation of such an invitation.

It’s been a long day of travel – she doesn’t make it back to her apartment until around seven, but there’s an energy about the night, a kind of electricity in the air.

She calls Kara. “I’ve made it back,” she says, “ _Come over when convenient._ ”

“ _I’ll be there soon_ ,” Kara promises.

Lena tidies the living room while Kara makes her way to her apartment. It’s more to have something to do than out of any need – she’s afraid that if she sits still, she’ll let herself think, and if she thinks about what she’s going to say to Kara, well, that’s the path to disaster.

Her cleaning was for naught – Kara’s barely made it inside Lena’s door when she begins to talk, broaching the subject that Lena had expected to have to dance around for at least half an hour before gaining the confidence to form her words.

“Before we talk about Lois, I have to make a confession. I may have- well, there’s no real way around it. I’ve been lying to you,” Kara says nervously, “I didn’t make up the language, and it’s not called Captaniuo.”

And that’s all the push that Lena needs to be able to put together the pieces of the puzzle that is Kara Danvers. She’s just formed the thought, the words teeter at the precipice of her lips, ready to spill out and into the world, when Kara confirms her unspoken theory.

“It’s the language of the planet that we were both born on – Krypton. It’s called Kryptoniuo.”

The fact that Kara is Supergirl seems secondary to the question that Lena desperately needs to ask.

“I asked Lois what you said the last time we spoke.” Kara blushes, but Lena continues, unable to stop now that she’s found her words. “She said that she’d never heard the word before. What does it mean?”

“On Krypton, marriages were arranged by The Matrix,” Kara explains, and she can’t meet Lena’s eyes, “We- there was no concept of romance, of affection other than the familial, so I had to- when I realized my feelings for you, I had to figure out the word for it.”

“So you mean-” Lena says, unable to accept it until she hears the words themselves from Kara’s mouth.

“ **Sarang-odh khap rrip** _, Lena_. I love you.”

And for all that Lena can say “I love you” in at least thirty languages, she’s never heard it like this, in Kara’s voice, in Kara’s language, in words that Kara created just for her.

“Oh, Kara,” she says, “ **Sarang-odh vahdhah khap rrip. Sarang-u zhindif khap rrip** _._ ” _I love you too. I will always love you._


End file.
